


No Chick Flick Moments

by GatesKeeper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, M/M, Oblivious Dean Winchester, POV Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Supportive Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25765300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatesKeeper/pseuds/GatesKeeper
Summary: Dean's happy to be having movie night with his family--until Sam insists on watching a chick flick and Jack makes some uncomfortable observations.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 30
Kudos: 451





	No Chick Flick Moments

“Popcorn!” Sam announces, plopping a bowl directly on his brother’s lap.

“Extra butter?” Dean double-checks, even though the kernels are about as unnatural a shade of orange as they can get.

“With a side of heart attack,” Sam grumbles, settling into the armchair beside the couch, trying to ignore the broken spring. They really need to go to an actual furniture store—not just pick up whatever other people leave out on the side of the road.

“Can I add M&M’s?” Jack asks Dean indicating the popcorn, his expression hopeful.

“Sure, Kiddo,” Dean says, lifting the bowl at the same time that Sam responds, “Absolutely not!” The two brothers frown at each other.

“Come on, Dean. You may be beyond help, but Jack’s a toddler. We should be teaching him to eat healthy,” Sam insists, ignoring Jack’s pout.

“Dude’s also part angel. It’s not like he can even get fat, Sam.”

Dean eventually holds out a fist, raising his eyebrows in question.

“ _Dean,_ ” Sam’s exasperated sigh blows some of his hair out of his face. “We’re not going to make parenting decisions by playing rock-paper-scissors.” _Although, considering Dean’s track record…_

Just then, Cas enters the Dean Cave, wearing blue jeans and a grey hoodie.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Dean grumbles at the former angel, scooting over to let Cas sit beside him.

“Apologies. I was experiencing stomach distress. I’m beginning to fear that I’m lactose intolerant.”

Instantly, Dean’s expression changes from joking to concerned, which is pretty much the opposite of the reaction Sam expected him to have. “Well, steal Sammy’s almond milk next time.”

Sam raises his eyebrows.

“ _What?_ ” Dean asks, defensively. “I’ll buy more.”

Sam shakes his head, knowing better than to tell Dean how sweet it is—the way that his brother has been helping Cas adjust to being human this time around.

“Hey, Cas, be the tie-breaker. Can Jack have M&Ms in the popcorn or not?” Dean unconsciously stretches his arm across the couch back so that it hovers above the ex-angel’s shoulders.

“Is that… a traditional combination?” Cas questions.

“No… But it’s delicious,” Dean insists with a whole-face grin that makes him look ten years younger. Cas bites the inside of his cheek—one of his new human gestures—and just like that, Sam knows he’s lost this one.

“So, what are we watching?” Dean asks in triumph as Jack pours the candy on.

Rather than answering, Sam just turns on the TV.

His brother’s groan is music to his ears. “A _chick flick,_ Man, seriously?”

“Jack said he wanted to see something from every genre. Plus, I think it will be good for him—Cas too—to watch, you know, normal human interactions. Something that _isn’t_ about monsters—or elves—or robots from the future.”

“First off, there is nothing _normal_ about how people act in these movies,” Dean replies, leaning forward to grab a beer off the coffee table. “Real life isn’t—stalking someone because you heard their voice on the radio or…or forcing someone to be your fake fiancé to get a green card. That’s _creepy_.” Sam raises his eyebrows—wondering how exactly Dean knows enough about rom-coms to come up with these examples. “And second--” he starts, only to get cut off by Cas.

“It’s Sam’s turn to pick the movie—and the premise seems…interesting.”

At Dean’s snort, the former angel turns to him more fully. Sam can’t see Cas’s face, but he can imagine what his blue eyes are doing just based on Dean’s reaction. “If we watch this now, I’ll watch Tombstone with you tomorrow. Is that acceptable?” Cas asks after a minute.

Dean curses under his breath. “Fine, _fine!_ ” he mutters. “Bobby always said family was supposed to make you miserable.”

“Right back at ya,” Sam grins, pressing play.

To be honest, it’s not his kind of movie either—but underneath his hard hunter exterior is a little brother who still hasn’t forgotten that Dean put toothpaste in his Oreos when he was twelve—so he’ll take any opportunity he can to make him squirm.

The premise is pretty simple: two best friends and roommates—David and Chelsea—pretend to not be into each other, which fools exactly no one but each other.

“I don’t understand,” Jack says fifteen minutes later when Chelsea starts dating Mr. Bland Handsome Doctor Guy.

“Why people watch these movies? Yeah, me either,” Dean speaks through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Why David is so angry with Chelsea. They were getting along so well in the beginning.”

“It’s ‘cause he wants to bang her, but she’s banging the other dude now.”

“But Rich _asked_ him if he had feelings for Chelsea and he said no.”

Sam thinks about how to answer while wondering if _all_ parents found it so difficult explaining stuff to their kids or if the Nephilim thing genuinely made it harder. “People are complicated, Jack,” he huffs out eventually. “Sometimes, they get scared to admit they want something, so they lie.”

“Scared of what?” Jack asks, confused.

“I would think he’s concerned that Chelsea doesn’t feel the same way about him—and that bringing it up would jeopardize their friendship,” Cas responds, looking down as he plays with the zipper on his hoodie.

“Except she totally does, so the next forty minutes of this will-they-won’t-they crap is just a waste of everybody’s time,” Dean grumbles, reaching for the popcorn at the very bottom of the bowl instead of taking some from the top like a regular person.

“But--” Jack starts, frustrated. _You’re not the only one. Forty minutes? Try ten years._ “How can you say she likes David? She’s with--” Clearly, Jack can’t remember Mr. Bland Handsome Doctor Guy’s name either.

“Kid,” Dean scoffs with chipmunk cheeks. “If you’re going to be a hunter, you really need to be able to read between the lines. Body language, that sorta thing. She’s always—you know, touching him, fixing his clothes, giving him long, soulful looks from the other end of the room—all that crap.”

Talking with his hands the way he is causes Dean’s fingers to brush Cas’s hair—something Jack definitely notices. His forehead wrinkles in concentration, “I thought that was just what close friends did.”

Sam pointedly lets Dean field this one.

“There’s _close_ and then there’s practically overlapping,” his brother grunts, gesturing at the screen where Chelsea and David are in the middle of an argument. “They’re like three inches away from being in a make-out session.”

_“Is this about Connor? You don’t like him, is that it?” Chelsea demands, jerking her chin up._

_“For fuck’s sake! Not everything is about him, even though you act like it is. Can you even go one sentence anymore without ‘my boyfriend this, my boyfriend that.’”_

And yet, only a few minutes later….

_“You know that no one’s ever going to take your place, right?” Chelsea asks, softly. “That I’m always going to need you.”_

_“I’m always gonna need you too,” David replies, stroking her hair as she rests her head on his shoulder._

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, _see._ What kind of ‘friends’ act like _that_?”

Sam can tell what Jack is going to say before he says it. It’s the first time he’s felt truly psychic in years. And yet, knowing doesn’t make the moment any less satisfying. “You and Castiel do,” the Nephilim responds with a tilt of his head, as Dean and Cas freeze, and Sam digs his nails into the arms of his chair. Even the bunker seems like it is listening hard.

Dean reacts first, jerking slightly like a video clip getting over a lag. “No, we don’t.”

Jack once again looks at Dean’s arm around Cas’s shoulder. Dean, seemingly noticing it himself for the first time, jerks it away, causing Cas to noticeably frown. “We’re nothing like that,” Dean insists. Green eyes turn in his direction. “Back me up here, Sammy.”

“Jack,” Sam says instead. “It looks like you’re almost out of popcorn. Why don’t you come with me to make some more?”

“But--”

“Sam!”

“Don’t worry. We’ll pause the movie,” he says, pressing the button on the remote and standing. When Jack still doesn’t move, Sam widens his eyes at the young boy before firmly jerking his head in the direction of the door. Luckily, the kid is a little more subtle than Cas is.

“Oh—of course, I’ll come help you,” he stutters, scrambling to his feet and quickly following him out the door, brimming over with energy like a shaken-up soda can.

“All of the things Dean said, he and Castiel do _all the time_. I’ve _seen_ it,” Jack insists as soon as the door is closed behind them.

“Trust me, we’ve _all_ seen it,” Sam answers him, trying to get as much distance between themselves and the Dean Cave as possible.

“They why did Dean--” Jack begins, but then stops himself. “He’s lying. Like David was.”

“Now, let’s see if _they_ can figure that out.”

“Are they going to get married?”

Honestly, Sam is just hoping that this doesn’t wind up with one of them storming out of the bunker. Even now, he hears the first raised voices, chasing them through the halls to the kitchen. “One step at a time.”

He opens up one of the cabinets and pulls down several boxes of cereal. "Dinner," he explains, resigned to the fact that Jack is not eating anything nutritious today. "They might be a while."

/////

A few minutes after midnight, Sam goes to get himself a glass of water. Jack went to bed hours ago and Dean and Cas—

Dean and Cas are currently running down the hallway in their boxers, clearly on their way to the shower room if the towels in their hands are anything to go by.

“Uh,” Sam says, intelligently, once they’ve skidded to a halt. “I guess this means congratulations are in order.”

Cas blushes a bright red, nodding a “Thank you, Sam.”

But the younger Winchester’s eyes have already turned to his brother. His brother who had worshipped their Dad, hit on anything in a skirt, and who had literally said, “no homo” in front of Charlie once, causing her to smack him upside the head. “Seriously,” Sam says, trying to infuse his smile with all the earnestness he can muster. “I really am so--”

But Dean already knows—Sam can see it in the relaxing of his shoulders, in the gratitude in his eyes right before he ducks his head. “Dude,” Dean scoffs, as he reaches down to grab Cas’s hand to drag him along—not that the ex-angel seems to mind. “How many times do I have to tell you? No chick flick moments.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not sure if I actually like this or not, but I figure that it does more good on the internet than hidden away on my computer, so...
> 
> If you DO like this, maybe consider checking out some of my other one-shots:  
> [Staring You in the Face](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045660)  
> [A Thing of the Past](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929460)  
> Also, I only have one Supernatural friend to talk Destiel to, so if you ever feel like chatting with me, I'm on Twitter @_GatesKeeper.


End file.
